


Fix You Up Right

by wintergrey



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Catharsis, Cruelty, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominant Masochism, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Kink, M/M, Masochism, Oral Sex, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 20:36:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3909796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintergrey/pseuds/wintergrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>"Fuck you, man." Sam stepped in and flipped the lock on the door behind him. They were gonna have some words about this. And fuck Tony, too, for his enhanced training suite that had jack shit in the way of real safety settings. That thing could literally kill. "I know what you're doing."</p>
  <p>"Not doing anything." Steve backed up into a treatment table, unwilling to meet Sam's eyes. "Had an off day."</p>
  <p>"Like your off day last week? Or the hard session the week before?" Sam wasn't about to let this one go. "You're hurting yourself, man. Is this some survivor's guilt thing? Because I feel that. But this is not the way."</p>
</blockquote>Roane wanted Steve/Sam; the kink prompt generator wanted Masochism. I just work here. Sam catches on to Steve's 'training mistakes' and uncovers that Steve needs a helping, knowledgeable hand.
            </blockquote>





	Fix You Up Right

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roane/gifts).



"You gotta stop." Sam blocked the door to the trainer's room so Steve couldn't get out. Post-training, Steve was dressed down in a half-zipped hoodie and loose track pants, nothing on his feet. Not like him at all.

"I'm fine." Steve could hardly breathe, couldn't lift his left arm--Sam was a medic and he knew what it looked like when a man was hiding shit from him. It was taking everything Steve had to stand up straight. "Just a hard session. I'll adjust the training program. Or try harder."

"Fuck you, man." Sam stepped in and flipped the lock on the door behind him. They were gonna have some words about this. And fuck Tony, too, for his enhanced training suite that had jack shit in the way of real safety settings. That thing could literally kill. "I know what you're doing."

"Not doing anything." Steve backed up into a treatment table, unwilling to meet Sam's eyes. "Had an off day."

"Like your off day last week? Or the hard session the week before?" Sam wasn't about to let this one go. "You're hurting yourself, man. Is this some survivor's guilt thing? Because I feel that. But this is not the way."

This close, he could smell sweat and medical wrap, a lot of both. Steve's cheeks were hot, the red stained down the sides of his throat. Sam needed Jesus right then, the man was so pretty and so vulnerable, so ashamed. Steve wouldn't look at him still, even with Sam right in his face.

"Something else?" Sam put a hand on Steve's jaw, trying to force eye contact. His fingers pressed into a red bruise just starting to purple and Steve's breath caught. Not in a bad way, fuck, not even a little. That couldn't be it. Steve's eyes were fixed on the vision chart on the far wall.

"No," Steve said, then swallowed hard. He was the worst liar Sam ever met.

"Yeah," Sam said quietly. He set his other hand against Steve's ribs where he'd seen a silver metal tentacle all but cave the man's side in during his fight session. "Lemme see how bad this is."

He leaned his weight into his hand, feeling for broken ribs. Nothing grated but the flesh was pulpy under a clumsy wrap job. Steve's knees gave a little--Sam had never seen him falter like that before--and Steve grabbed at the table behind him with both hands to stay standing.

Sam knew it was bad even before Steve retched with agony. Nothing like the pain of wrenching a torn shoulder. Sam got an arm around Steve's waist, on the good side, and took as much of Steve's weight against his own body as he could.

"I gotcha, Steve," Sam said, not just because he was holding Steve up but because he understood now. In spite of the agony Steve must have been in, his cock was hard against Sam's hip. "It's okay."

"Don't." Steve sounded broken but he still looped his good arm around Sam's shoulders for support.

"Hear me out." Sam found the pedals for the training table without looking and tapped with one foot until the table dropped low enough for Steve to settle onto it. "You need help. And I don't mean therapy."

Steve slumped, back bent, eyes closed. Broken worse than any physical hurt could do. He let his head rest on Sam's shoulder, didn't say anything. Sam kept talking half to convince Steve and half to convince himself that this was a good idea because he was so turned on he wasn't sure he was thinking straight.

"Lemme give you what you need, make sure you get it without killing yourself." Sam caressed Steve's swollen, damaged shoulder and then pressed gently, so gently. That's all it took to get a whine out of Steve, and that didn't sound like it hurt--not in a bad way. "I know bodies. I know hurt. Lemme do my job."

"I wasn't like this before." Steve straightened with a wince, still couldn't look Sam in the eyes. "When I was a kid."

"It's okay even if you were." Sam put pressure on that shoulder again and watched Steve's eyes roll back in his head. Jesus, that was hot. He'd never thought hurting someone could get him off, but that was a rush. "Yeah, that's good. You wanna lie down?"

"You can't." Steve shook his head gingerly.

"Touch me." Sam put a hand to Steve's cheek and this time, finally, Steve looked him in the eye. He was focused, if a little glassy with lust and shame. "You wanna know how I feel about this, you touch me. Then tell me I can't."

For a minute, Sam didn't think Steve was going to do it. Then Steve covered the fly of Sam's jeans with one big hand, rubbing the length of Sam's aching erection. Steve's blue eyes widened and his breath caught, he leaned in to kiss Sam on the mouth all soft and needy, like begging.

"I'm gonna take good care of you." Sam rolled his hips to let Steve really feel how wanting he was and Steve's answering sigh sounded like relief.

"Please, Sam."

"Let's get this off." Sam unzipped Steve's hoodie. "Let me fix you up right."

Steve was docile when Sam stripped him, already half lost in that place some people went to when they were getting what they needed. By the time Sam got all the badly wrapped bandages off, there was a wet patch on the front of Steve's pants where his cock was leaking steadily. Sam wanted to touch, wanted to cover that spot with his mouth and suck it clean, but he wasn't in this for himself.

"Lie back." Sam cradled Steve's shoulders and stabilised his injured arm while he got Steve settled on the pillows. That done, he got a roll of stability tape to strap Steve's arm against his chest, just temporarily, to prevent either of them from accidentally making the damage worse. Sam had every intention of hurting him, just on purpose. "That'll do for now. Hips up."

Steve did as he was told, eyes locked on Sam now, breath coming shallowly. Sam stripped Steve's pants off, ran his hands over Steve's legs to check for injuries. His thighs and shins were brutally bruised, the right ankle was swollen, but it was all soft tissue damage. When Sam prodded gently to be sure, Steve moaned and pulled his knees up, feet apart.

"Fuck me." His voice was ragged. "Sam, please." He was clenching his left fist rhythmically, a move that had to be sending burning shocks of pain through his arm.

"Not this time." Sam brought Steve's legs back down, then covered them with a blanket from the warmer, just to the tops of his thighs. "You fuck yourself up this badly, no way I'm fucking you. You do things my way next time, I'll fuck you as much as you want, you just tell me when and where."

"Oh, Jesus, really?" Steve shuddered and his belly went taut, his cock bouncing against it has his body reacted just to the idea of getting what he needed. "Sam, why?"

"To keep you from fucking up." Sam folded up a clean cloth, then wrapped it tightly with training wrap. His motions were precise, almost too sharp, and he realized belatedly that he was still angry. Couldn't go into this angry or dishonest. "Sorry. Why? Have you seen your ass? Because I want to fuck you until you can't stand up."

Sam came to stand by the table and smoothed one hand over Steve's hair as he brought the table up a little higher. Steve's eyes fixed on him again, thirsty and drowning at once.

"Don't do me any favours," Steve said, and Sam could see it cost him. Sam put another pillow under his head and shoulders, carefully, to get him propped up right

"I wouldn't do that do you, man." Sam twisted his fingers in Steve's hair when he leaned in to kiss Steve on the mouth. "I respect you too much for that."

Steve laughed breathlessly. "Respect me?" After this?"

"Don't argue with me, boy." Sam pushed the makeshift gag into his mouth, then gripped his jaw so he'd hit bruises. Steve's eyes widened and his back arched. "Yeah, I thought so."

Sam swung up onto the table, straddling Steve's hips. Time to go to work. He could look Steve in the eyes from here, had control of the whole situation. Almost the whole situation. He unzipped his jeans, pushed his boxers down below his balls, and let Steve watch him stroke his cock.

"Let's get this straight," Sam said evenly as he jerked off. "I'm gonna hurt you. I'm gonna hurt you a lot. I'm gonna make you cry."

Steve whimpered, curled his fingers around his own cock, but Sam moved his hand away. He was only going to be gentle about it once.

"Nope. When you come it'll be because I make you." Sam stopped touching himself because it was getting a little too much. A last squeeze left his fingers wet and he licked them off to watch Steve shudder with want when he did. "You behave for me, you can have that when you're done. Mouth. This foolishness lost you having it in your ass. Clear?"

Steve nodded and Sam could see it written in his face. Clear. No need for more. If Steve wanted him to stop, Steve could probably put him through the far wall, even one-handed.

"You let me plan this next time, we do it somewhere you can make some noise." Sam put the heel of his hand to Steve's battered ribs, right in the blackest part of the ripening bruise, and pressed down.

Steve's eyes went wide, he bit down on the gag, and his feet slid on the table behind Sam.

"Because you're gonna want to scream about this in a minute." Sam put his other hand out. "Give me five to say yes and we'll get this going."

Steve slapped Sam's palm with his good hand, then squeezed lightly before letting go to grab the side of the table. Sam twisted his hand into the bruise and Steve arched with an agonized noise. Sam gave him a moment to suck air in through his nose, then did it again, this time with his free hand on Steve's cock.

Steve lasted until Sam turned his attention to Steve's shoulder before he screamed behind the gag, head back, eyes looking nowhere. Sam knew where the swelling would be worst, the nerves the most tormented, and he was relentless about it. Steve grabbed at Sam's arms and his shirt but then he was covering his own face with that hand as he shook.

It wasn't precisely a turn on to hurt. The control was incredible but the pain was just work. Sam couldn't lose focus, walking that thin line between making Steve choke and howl and doing something stupid that would be permanent. Whatever it all added up to must have been right because Steve was still rock hard when Sam touched him.

"You cry for me, I let you come," Sam offered. He hooked his fingers under Steve's bad elbow and lifted, pushing the humerus up into the swollen socket of his shoulder.

Steve convulsed, heels pounding the table, hard enough that Sam had to hold on with his thighs. Steve's nails scraped the sheet covering the table and his breath came in rapid, panicked gasps. But when he met Sam's eyes, he said something that was unmistakeably "again".

Sam did it again, twisting this time, and Steve howled, muscles standing out in his neck. He spat the gag out and sobbed, reaching for Sam.

"God, please, no more," he begged. Tears spilled over and trickled down into his hair. "Fuck, Sam, please. Please let me come, God."

Sam jerked him off, fast and efficient, fingers slick with Steve's pre-come. Steve stifled his sobs and moans with the back of his hand, but barely. When he came, Sam had to cover his mouth to keep the curses and pleas from filling the room.

"You're okay, baby," Sam crooned even as he silenced Steve with one hand and brought him off with the other. As Steve subsided into tears and shudders, Sam leaned over him, kissing his forehead and wiping away his tears. "I'm gonna take care of you. You're fine."

"Please, let me." Steve's fingers scrabbled down Sam's belly to his cock. He was still shaking and the tears kept coming. "Please, Sam. You said."

"Yeah, I did." Sam swung down and came around to stand by the head of the table. "I promised."

Steve caught on without prompting, turning to get Sam's cock in his mouth. He was frantic but not clumsy, knew exactly what he was doing. It seemed to ease things for him, taking Sam in like this. Sam stroked Steve's hair while he fucked Steve's mouth.

Steve found Sam's hand and held onto it hard and that little trusting moment did Sam in. He had to lock his legs to keep steady, riding out his orgasm with his gaze still on Steve's face to make sure Steve was doing okay.

"God, you're good," Sam said when it was over. He pulled out slowly and gave Steve a kiss before doing up his jeans. "You okay?"

Sam got a nod and thumbs up in return as Steve relaxed onto his back. Good enough. Steve looked better--wrecked but better. Once he had Steve tucked in with fresh blankets from the warmer, Sam perched on the edge of the table.

"Sorry," Steve said, looking guilty again.

"Stop your shit." Sam patted his cheek lightly but with the promise of some sting if Steve kept it up. "You should be sorry for what you did before I got in here, hurting yourself, not this. Clear."

"Yes, Sam." Steve exhaled slowly and leaned his face into Sam's hand. "Fair enough."

"You want to get up to this, you do it with me. You do it without me, we're done." Sam wanted that much clear. "I'm not gonna patch you up after you've been a fool just because I get your kink. But you want to do this with me, you need me, I'm there."

"I believe you promised some fucking as well." There was a ghost of Steve's familiar smile.

"Oh, he's there for the fucking. Am I doing all the work here or is it just me?" Sam laughed with relief.

"You're doing all the work." Steve reached for him. "Hope you're good with that."

Sam let Steve pull him down for a rest, his head on Steve's good shoulder. "As long as I get to keep you in one piece, I'll put in overtime."


End file.
